Grace rolls her eyes dramatically, but can't help but feel a tiny bit grateful for the honey. It will help soothe her sore throat.

I don't need your pity honey, just bring me my tea before I keel over. And don't even think about letting it get cold on your way here. She huffs and turns her head, determined to not give you the satisfaction of seeing her weakness.

Grace snorts and takes the mug, her eyes narrowing suspiciously.

I knew I couldn't trust you. I hope you didn't add anything extra in there. She takes a cautious sip, her face twisting into a grimace as the hot liquid touches her raw throat. Ugh, it's too hot! Be a dear and hold it for me, would you? Grace leans back, still clutching the mug, and closes her eyes wearily.

Grace takes a small sip, her eyes fluttering open to glare at you.

See, this is why I can't trust you. You just can't do anything right.

She takes another sip, her glare softening just a fraction.

But I suppose it's not as bad as I expected. You can keep holding it for now.

Grace settles back against the pillows, looking increasingly drained.

Grace's eyes widen in surprise at your bold comment. She opens her mouth to retort, but a coughing fit takes over, leaving her weak and gasping for air.

You...you wish...

She struggles to catch her breath, her hand trembling as she takes the mug from you and sips desperately, the coughing subsiding slightly. Don't...don't think you can just...just sweet talk your way out of this...

Grace's eyes start to droop, exhaustion taking over.

Grace's eyes snap open, a faint blush appearing on her feverish cheeks.

What are you doing?! Get your hands off me!

She tries to push you away, but her arms are too weak, her efforts barely more than a light tap.

Y-you're not funny, Nancey Havens. I-I'll have you know I always follow through on my promises. You'll get your thank you. Grace sinks back into the pillow, exhaustion clear on her face.

Grace scowls, but there's no real heat behind it, just more weariness. You're impossible, you know that? Just...go away. Let me sleep.

She rolls over, presenting her back to you, but not before you see the faint smile tugging at her lips.

I'll...I'll give you your reward. Just don't expect it to be anytime soon.

Grace's breathing already starts evening out as she drifts off to sleep, leaving you to ponder her words.

Grace's breathing remains steady, the steady rhythm of sleep filling the room. Even in her dreams, though, she can't quite let go of her pride. Her lips twist into a small, almost imperceptible smirk, as if already plotting how she'll get revenge for your teasing.

Hours later, she stirs, her eyes fluttering open. She looks around confused for a moment, then remembers she's sick. A soft groan escapes her lips as she realizes the mess she's in. She tries to call out for you, but her voice is hoarse and barely audible.

Ah, come on... Don't tell me you abandoned me already... Grace's hand reaches out, searching for the bell she usually uses to summon you. When she can't find it, her expression turns into a scowl, and she starts tugging at the blankets, trying to get up.

Fine...

Grace's breathing remains steady, the steady rhythm of sleep filling the room. Even in her dreams, though, she can't quite let go of her pride. Her lips twist into a small, almost imperceptible smirk, as if already plotting how she'll get revenge for your teasing.

Hours later, she stirs, her eyes fluttering open. She looks around confused for a moment, then remembers she's sick. A soft groan escapes her lips as she realizes the mess she's in. She tries to call out for you, but her voice is hoarse and barely audible.

Ah, come on... Don't tell me you abandoned me already... Grace's hand reaches out, searching for the bell she usually uses to summon you. When she can't find it, her expression turns into a scowl, and she starts tugging at the blankets, trying to get up.

Fine...

Grace scowls at you, but stops struggling as you help her with the blankets. She leans back, her eyes narrowing.

I am not meek or forgotten! I just...I'm a little under the weather, that's all.

She clears her throat, trying to regain her composure.

And no, I don't need any stupid cough syrup. I want some real food. Something substantial.

Grace eyes you expectantly, as if waiting for you to jump into action.

Grace huffs, but she can't help the small smile that tugs at her lips.

You're impossible, you know that? I'll have you know I can be sweet when I want to be.

She leans back against the pillows, watching you leave. As soon as you're gone, she lets out a soft groan, her body aching and weak. She tries to sit up again, but her arms shake, and she collapses back down, her scowl deepening.

This is so annoying...

Just then, there's a knock at the door, and a familiar voice calls out.

Grace looks up as you enter, her expression instantly brightening at the sight of the food.

Well, well, well... look what the cat dragged in.

She sits up slowly, eyeing the tray hungrily.

Fine, I'll have your stupid snack. But only because I'm starving, not because you're special or anything.

Grace takes the tray, her hands trembling slightly. She takes a tentative sip of the broth, then moans softly.

Damn... this is actually good.

She takes a bigger sip, her eyes widening.

I can taste...is that cinnamon? And...cloves?

Her gaze snaps to you, a mix of surprise and grudging respect in her eyes.

Grace's eyes narrow, but she can't hide the pleased expression that flashes across her face.

Don't get too cocky. This doesn't mean I suddenly like you or anything.

She takes another sip of the broth, her eyes fluttering closed briefly in enjoyment.

But...it is pretty good. I guess you're not completely useless.

Grace looks down, fiddling with the edge of the tray. There's an uncharacteristic softness in her voice when she speaks again.

Thank you, Nancey Havens. It...it's really good.

She glances up at you, her cheeks slightly flushed, before looking back down, embarrassed.